Out of Time
by Carol
Summary: Darien is mysteriously kidnapped and then returned to the Agency. It's a race against time to find out what was done to him.
1. Default Chapter

Out of Time (Prologue) 

Out of Time (Prologue)

By Carol M.

Summary: Darien is mysteriously kidnapped and then returned to the Agency. It's race against time to find out what was done to him.

Spoilers: small one for Father Figure

Rating: PG-13 for violence and graphic images

Timeline: sometime after F2B

Disclaimer: If I owned them, I'd treat them with a hell of a lot more respect than their former owners did. That's okay, when it goes to a new network, everything will be peachy keen again. 

Note: This story has nothing to do with the Devil's Silver series, so forget any character deaths, connections or partnerships featured in those stories. Also, I have next to no knowledge when it comes to medicine so please excuse any mistakes on my part. After watching ER for eight years, all I've managed to learn is that a UTI is a Urinary Tract Infection and a GSW is a gunshot wound. Other than that, take some time out from writing letters and sending postcards, and enjoy the story : )

Darien quivered as he took in the sight before him. He was in the San Diego Credit Union, sent in under the radar to try and get some intel on some psychotic bank robbers who had decided to hold up the place. About fifty billion police eagerly awaited outside, ready to storm in on a moments notice and take out whoever they had to, innocent or not. Darien had been in the bank for about ten minutes when he realized that the robbers weren't going down without a fight. He had just witnessed the rather graphic execution of the bank's president, and was struggling to keep his wavering heartbeat under control so he would stay invisible. Something told him that if he suddenly appeared, he would be gone in a matter of seconds, and they probably wouldn't be so kind as to aim for the chest and not the head. They didn't know he was walking around with a 17 million dollar gland in his head after all.

Darien reached for his mike and put it near his mouth. "Hobbes, come in, man," he whispered.

"What the hell is going on in there, Fawkes," he heard Bobby respond.

"Um, well, you ever seen Scarface?" said Darien.

"Yeah, why?" he heard Bobby reply in a curious tone.

"Well, I think I'm about to get a live reenactment of the ending here, man. What do you say I get the hell out here and leave this job to trained professionals," whispered Darien as he eyed one of the robbers caressing his gun.

"They're sending in a squad as we speak. Just hang tight, buddy," said Bobby.

"Hobbes, Hobbes, no man, you send those guys in and half these people aren't getting out alive. Call them off!" said Darien harshly.

The sound of breaking glass told Darien that his warning had come too late. Twenty men dressed in black and armed with heavy artillery entered the bank, coming from the doors, the windows and the roof. Screams and gunshots filled the air. 

Darien moved towards one of the walls in a panic, not sure if he should reveal himself or not. He saw robbers and SWAT team members dropping like flies and innocent bank patrons scattering towards the exits. It was complete pandemonium and Darien was terrified.

He looked towards his left saw one of the bank robbers rapidly returning fire on the SWAT members. He decided to put his fear aside and take him out. He lunged towards the robber, and they both went crashing to the floor. Darien landed heavily on his side, forcing the quicksilver off of his body. He closed his eyes for a second and tried to catch his breath. When he opened his eyes, he was face to face with the barrel of a shotgun.

"That wasn't very nice," said a voice from behind the gun.

Darien was paralyzed. He'd only had a gun in his face once before and that had been with his father at the helm with no threat of death. This was different. Any second this guy could pull the trigger and Darien Fawkes would be a memory. He absently thought about what they would put on his tombstone. He had great hair, maybe. Or his pants were always a little too short. Whatever it was, he realized one thing: the idea of dying scared the crap out of him.

He swallowed hard and tried to beg for his life with his eyes, not trusting his voice to work. He saw the gun move a little and realized the robber was about to pull the trigger. I love you, Claire and Bobby, he thought to himself. 

He closed his eyes and waited for the bright light. What he got was a heavy body suddenly knocking him flat on his back. After a few heart stopping seconds, he opened one eye curiously and saw the very dead face of his almost killer only inches away from his own face. He felt sticky warmth and realized to his horror that he was covered in blood.

His body started to shiver and he tried to fight the queasy feeling building in his stomach. Strong hands gripped his shoulders and he felt his body being pulled out from the stifling grip of the dead robber's body. "Fawkes, Fawkes, you okay, partner?" he heard the concerned voice of Bobby Hobbes ask.

Darien looked up at Bobby and then surveyed the scene around him. It was all over, he realized. Bodies lay strewn about the floor, blood leaking out from random parts of their anatomies. SWAT team members milled about, checking pulses and calling for ambulances. Random people were screaming out in pain or crying out in sympathy. Amongst all the carnage sat Darien Fawkes, living and breathing, not dead or even in any pain. But it had been so close, so damn close. No, Darien Fawkes was definitely not okay.

****************

"Vacation, did you just say vacation?" said the Official gruffly in the direction of Claire.

Claire nodded and looked over at Darien from her position next to the Official's desk. "Sir, I think it's only fair. This last case proved rather traumatic for Bobby and especially Darien. I think a little recovery time is in order, don't you think?"

The Official shook his head. "No, absolutely not. There are too many important cases pending."

Bobby cleared his throat from the chair he was sitting in. "Ah, sir, Keep's got a point. You've been promising me a vacation since my first day at this dump and I feel that…"

"Enough Hobbes," interrupted the Official. He looked at Darien. "Fawkes, what are your thoughts on this?"

Darien looked towards Bobby and then back at the Official. "Well as my senior just said, sir, you have been promising him a vacation for quite some time. And if he gets a vacation, then I think I should get a vacation too. Batman never worked without Robin after all." 

The Official sighed in frustration. Claire stepped forward with a serious expression on her face. "Sir, you have been working them both to the breaking point. As Darien's doctor, I think that he especially needs a break from the stresses of work. Otherwise he might be susceptible to something unpleasant like Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"Whoa, Keep, you don't have to go getting all scientific on us, now," said Darien, using the sarcasm to deflect the fact that he was still freaked out by the events of the previous day.

Claire rolled her eyes and looked at the Official. "Sir, Darien needs some recovery time from what happened to him. Facing death can be a very trying thing and in Darien's case, I just think that it would be best if he dealt with all of this off the clock."

Darien whistled and stuck his hand up in the air. "Excuse me, I am here you know."

"Oh, so the chosen one gets a vacation and I don't, is that what you're saying?" said Bobby with irritation.

The Official thought for a moment and then spoke suddenly. "No. Fawkes, Hobbes, you're both on vacation for one week," he said as he looked over at Claire. "Satisfied?"

Claire smiled. "Yes, sir."

Bobby looked over at Darien and beamed. "Did you hear that Fawkes, a vacation! Bahamas, here I come!"

Darien smiled and the partners slapped hands.

"What do you say Fawkesy? Want to tickle your toes in the sand and seduce some gorgeous natives with me?" asked Bobby.

Darien smiled and shook his head. "Naw Hobbes, I'll leave the tickling and seducing to you, buddy."

"Yeah, okay. Just don't go getting all jealous when Bobby Hobbes comes back with a golden tan and pockets filled with phone numbers of amazing…"

"Bobby," said Claire sharply, rolling her eyes.

Bobby cupped his hand over his mouth. "She's just jealous," he said in the direction of Darien.

Darien nodded knowingly.

Bobby looked around the room. "What am I still doing here? I need to get packed," he said as he stood up. "I'll buy you all a souvenir," said Bobby before he walked out the door. He popped his head back in the door several seconds later. "Thanks, chief."

"Get out of here," grumbled the Official.

Bobby's head disappeared.

"Well I supposed I should leave too," said Darien as he slowly stood up. "This vacation wouldn't happen to be paid, would it?"

"Don't push it, Fawkes," said the Official.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," replied Darien. "I'll catch ya next week then, kids," he said as he stepped into the hall.

The Official waved him off in disgust. Claire leaned towards him and whispered "Thank you, sir." Then she quickly walked out of the office to catch up to Darien. "Darien, hold on a second," yelled Claire.

Darien turned around. "Yeah, Keep?"

"I just want you to know that if you need to talk about anything, I'm here for you. Not just as your doctor but as your friend," she said as she reached him and grabbed his hand for a moment.

Darien smiled. "I know that. I'm fine Keep, really. I just need to get out of here for a few days and clear my head. I'm thinking bowling and the arcade might be instrumental in my recovery," he said as he gave her hand a squeeze.

"Okay, well if you change your mind, you know where I am," said Claire, letting go of Darien's hand.

"How could I forget?" said Darien as he started for the elevators. "I'll see you in a week, Claire."

Claire smiled. "Have a good vacation, Darien."

"Oh don't worry, I will," said Darien as he disappeared into an elevator.

****************

Unknown Time and Location

There were no faces or voices anymore, just blurry images and fuzzy sounds. All Darien could feel was pain. He was strapped painfully tight to a lab table, the binds so tight they left bloody marks on his arms and legs and bruises on his chest and stomach. He had no idea how long he had been strapped to the table and at this point, he didn't really care.

He saw one of the blurry blobs come closer to him and felt the prick of a needle between his toes. Fire coursed through his body and he could feel himself convulsing against the restraints, adding more aches to his tortured frame. A few moments later, he felt a second prick, this one in his arm, and all his senses seemed to go on vacation, leaving him feeling distant and lightheaded. Just before he lost consciousness, Darien wondered how his week of rest and relaxation had turned into a week of hell.

TBC


	2. Part 1

Out of Time Part 1 

Out of Time Part 1

By Carol M.

See prologue for disclaimers and stuff.

Note: Well…crap, I've got nothing to say for once. On with the story…

Claire whistled as she walked through the hallway to the Keep. It had been a week since she had last seen Darien and Bobby, and they were both due back to work that day. She was eager to here all about their vacations. She was a little surprised that Darien hadn't come by to visit her at all during the past week, but she figured that maybe he needed some time to himself. Claire just hoped that the vacation had revived him both mentally and spiritually.

When Claire reached the door to the Keep, she took out her keycard and swiped it through the slot. The Keep door opened and she flipped the lights on. She walked inside and jumped about a mile when she saw Darien lying on the counteragent chair.

Claire put a hand to her chest in surprise. "God Darien, don't do that," she said as she walked over to the chair. "What are you doing here so early?" she asked as she checked her watch and realized it was only six thirty. "I wasn't expecting you until at least 10 o'clock?"

Darien did not respond. "Darien?" she said as she glanced at him. His eyes were closed and the only movement detectable was the rise and fall of his chest. It looked like he had fallen asleep waiting for her to give him his shot. "Darien," said Claire as she shook him slightly. No response. "Darien, come on, wake up," she said as she shook him harder. Still nothing.

She realized after a few moments that he was dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing the last time she saw him. Shaking her head slightly, she reached for his wrist and saw that the tattoo read six red and three green. He was going to need a shot very soon.

"Darien, can you hear me?" she said as she lifted up his eye to reveal a brown iris with no traces red. At least we don't have to deal with that right now, she thought with relief. She gave him a soft slap on the cheek. "Come on, I need you to wake up for me."

When he still didn't move, she started to do a cursory exam of his body. She put her hand against his neck and found his pulse to be sluggish, but strong. She ran her hands over his head to check for any bumps and then ran her hands over his chest, stomach and back to see if he had any wounds that she couldn't see. Her exam turned up nothing.

She picked up his body and let him lean against her so she could remove his jacket. His head flopped limply against her shoulder, and she could feel the shallowness of his breath against her neck. She gently laid him back down on the chair and frowned when she saw bloody bruises on his wrists. She took a closer look at the bruises and realized they had to have come from some sort of restraint. She also saw a fresh needle mark in the crook of his elbow. "Bloody hell," she said in agitation.

She lifted up his shirt and sighed when she saw similar bruises running across his chest. "What did you get yourself into, Darien?" she said to herself sadly.

She walked over to a drawer and pulled out some smelling salts. She quickly walked back over to Darien and snapped the salts under his nose. He sluggishly opened his eyes and then closed them again.

"Damn it, Darien. I need you to wake up for me, come on," said Claire as she slapped him again.

With a groan, Darien opened his eyes and kept them open. A look of confusion washed over his face. "What happened? Where am I?" he asked in a raspy voice.

"You're in the Keep, Darien. I found you lying here when I came in a few minutes ago," responded Claire gently.

"Why…how…how did I get here?" he croaked out. He tried to sit up and groaned when he felt the pain in his chest. He lifted up his shirt and saw the bruises. "What the hell happened to me?" he asked with wide-eyed panic.

Claire pressed her hands against his chest and forced him back down into the chair. "Calm down, okay. Just relax. We're going to find out what happened, we just need to take it slow, that's all," she said in a soothing tone.

Darien took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay," he whispered in a calmer voice.

"All right, now Darien, I need you to quicksilver for me, okay," she said gently.

Darien did what he was told and was instantly invisible. Seconds later, he reappeared.

"Okay, whatever happened to you, it didn't effect your ability to quicksilver. I just need to run a few tests," she said as she left his side for a second and returned moments later with a large needle.

"Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?" asked Darien fearfully.

"I'm just going to draw some blood to see if there are any drugs in your system," she said as she carefully inserted the needle into his arm. She pulled up the plunger and blood started to fill up the large syringe.

Darien swallowed painfully and closed his eyes, not wanting to know what had been done to him.

When Claire finished, she pulled the needle out of his arm and walked over to her microscope and computer. For the next hour, she ran every possible test on the blood that she could think of.

Darien lay unusually quiet in the chair, feeling the familiar building off pain in the back of his head. "Umm, Keep, if you don't mind, I kind of need a shot here," he whispered when the pain started to reach an unbearable level.

Claire looked up from her microscope. "Just a few more minutes, Darien. I just want to make sure it's all right to give you the counteragent," she said as she looked back down at his blood sample.

Darien nodded miserably and tried to relax. His attempt failed when a slice of pain tore through his head. "Ahhhh, Claire, help!" he yelped through the pain. This attack seemed to be worse than any he had ever experienced before. It sailed through his whole body from his head to the tips of his toes. "Claire," whimpered.

"Hold on, I'm coming. It's okay, it's okay, Darien. It's safe," said Claire as she reached for a syringe and filled it with counteragent. She quickly ran over to Darien and injected the blue stuff into his neck.

Relief flooded through Darien's body and he sagged in exhaustion against the counteragent chair. Seconds later, he screamed out when excruciating pain tore through his stomach. "Oww, aw crap," he moaned as he curled into a ball and clutched his middle.

"Darien, what's wrong?" asked Claire in a panic as she took a hold of his shoulders.

"My stomach," he whimpered. Just as the words left his mouth, the pain suddenly disappeared. He sagged once again in relief and took deep breaths to calm himself down. "It's gone," he breathed out.

He straightened himself out and closed his eyes. 

Claire rubbed his arm and wiped a stray piece of hair off his forehead. "The blood test revealed a heavy sedative in your blood. I think the mix of the counteragent with the sedative caused the pain, but you should be all right now," she said soothingly. "There wasn't a trace of anything else in your blood, so I think you're safe."

Darien opened his eyes and gave her a weak smile. "I guess that's a good thing, right."

Claire nodded. "Yeah," she said gently. "Now Darien, I need to know the last thing you remember."

Darien nodded and closed his eyes, trying to piece together anything that he could remember. He opened his eyes and shook his head. "The last thing I remember is being in the Official's office and getting a vacation. I send goodbye to you, and then I got in my car. After that, nothing."

"Darien, that was a week ago. Whoever took you had you for the whole week. There's a needle mark in your arm that's only hours old. They must have dropped you off here very early this morning. Are you sure you can't remember anything?" she asked.

Darien dug deep into his brain, but still couldn't make sense of anything. "No," he said softly. He looked at her with scared eyes. "What do you think they did to me?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

"We're going to find out, don't you worry," she said as took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "The sedative they gave you may be acting as a temporary memory loss agent. Once it starts to wear off, you will probably begin to remember. Why don't we move you to lab three so you can get some sleep. I'll alert the Official and we can start investigating. Maybe when you wake up, you'll remember something," said Claire in a comforting tone.

Darien nodded and sat up slowly in the chair. With some assistance from Claire, he made it to lab three. He curled up in the bed and closed his eyes, completely exhausted. Claire pulled a comforter over him. "Rest," she said softly, but Darien was already there.

"I want answers, Claire," said the Official in irritation. "What exactly did they do to him?"

Claire shook her head. "I don't know sir. I've run every possible test I could think of on his blood and all I found were traces of a sedative. There's nothing wrong with the gland. He's not in any pain aside from the bruises. He had a reaction when I gave him the counteragent, but that was only due to the combination of the counteragent and the sedative."

"And he doesn't remember anything?" asked the Official.

"Not a thing, sir. The last thing he remembers is getting in his car and leaving the Agency last week. After that, everything is a blur," said Claire.

"So whoever took him, had him for an entire week and we didn't know about? How the hell did they know he was on vacation anyway? And why the hell didn't the agent we have watching him see anything?" said the Official as he slammed his hand against his desk. 

"You have an agent watching Darien?" asked Claire with anger.

"No, it's not like that. It's just to make sure nobody takes him when he's off duty. Obviously the idea failed," said the Official angrily as he picked up his phone and dialed. "Get me Higgins," he said.

Claire sat down in one of the chairs in front of the Official's desk and sighed heavily.

"What? How is that possible? When? You're fired. Everyone's fired!" yelled the Official as he slammed the phone down.

Claire raised her eyebrows and looked at the Official.

"Well it seems the agent assigned to look out for Fawkes took a little vacation himself. Nobody's seen or heard from him in a week," said the Official.

Claire was about to speak when she was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Bobby. "Roll out the red carpet because Bobby Hobbes is back in town," he said as he walked through the door.

They looked up and saw Bobby dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and a straw hat, his face a deep golden tan. He carried several bags in his arms. "Where's Fawkes? I got him a present," said Bobby with excitement. His face fell when he realized the grave expressions on Claire and the Official's face. "What's wrong? Is something wrong with my partner?" he asked in concern.

Claire cleared her throat. "Bobby, I found Darien this morning in the lab completely unconscious. Once I woke him up, he couldn't remember anything that had happened to him the last week. It looks like someone kidnapped him and did some tests on him or something, I'm not really sure," she said with sympathy.

"Where is he now?" said Bobby stoically as he set down the bags and took off the hat.

"Downstairs in lab three sleeping. He's completely wiped out. They gave him a heavy sedative, and I think that once it wears off, he might start to remember what happened to him," said Claire.

"Do we have a list of possible suspects yet?" asked Bobby as he stepped towards the Official's desk.

The Official spoke up. "No. It seems that the agent assigned to watch Fawkes has gone missing. Other than that, we just have to wait until Darien remembers something before we can get any clues."

"He already does," said a voice near the door. They all turned their heads and saw Darien standing in the doorway. "My apartment, whoever got me did it at my apartment."

Bobby marched towards the door and gave Darien a pat on the shoulder. "Let's go, partner," he said as he walked past Darien into the hallway.

"Whoa, whoa, Darien, you're not going anywhere. We're still not sure what was done to you and it could be dangerous to leave," said Claire urgently.

"Sorry, Keep, but I'm not sitting on my ass while whoever did this just gets away clean. I need to get out there and find out what happened to me for myself," said Darien, his jaw firmly set.

Claire put her hands on her hips. "Fine. But if you start to feel strange, I want you back here."

"You have my word," said Darien as he disappeared down the hall.

"Bobby," yelled Claire.

Several seconds later, Bobby poked his head back in the door. "Yeah, Keep."

"Watch him," she said.

Bobby nodded. "I got his back, Keep," he said as he once again disappeared.

Claire and the Official exchanged weary glances before Claire headed back down to the Keep to run some more tests.

TBC


	3. Part 2

Out of Time Part 2 

Out of Time Part 2

By Carol M.

See prologue for disclaimers and stuff…

Note: Hopefully this little scenario that I cooked up won't sound like too much crap. If it does, well hey, it's science fiction, and I made it all up, so sue me: ) Enjoy folks!

"You sure you're okay, partner?" Bobby asked Darien for the hundredth time as they made their way up the stairs to Darien's apartment.

Darien rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Hobbes, stop worrying."

Bobby shook his head. "See what happens. I leave you alone for a week and you become somebody's science experiment. I should never have left you," muttered Bobby.

Darien stopped Bobby and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Hobbesy, it's not your job to watch over me, okay. None of this is your fault," said Darien firmly.

"If something bad happens to you, I'll never forgive myself," said Bobby as he continued up the stairs.

"Yeah well hopefully we won't have to worry about a funeral anytime soon. But you can cross your fingers for me anyway," said Darien as he followed Bobby up the stairs.

They reached the second floor and walked over to Darien's apartment. Darien took out his key and stuck it in the lock, but found that the door was already open. "That can't be good," he said as he entered his apartment. "Aw crap," he sighed in anger as he got his first glimpse of his apartment.

The whole place was a mess. His books and CDs had been tossed around the room and all his clothes lay strewn about the floor. One of the windows was broken, leaving glass to litter the carpet. All in all, everything was a wreck.

"Looks like you're gonna have to call the maid when all of this is over, pal," said Bobby as he looked around the room for clues.

"Yeah, no kidding," said Darien as he kneeled down and picked up a few of his beloved quote books. "Is nothing sacred anymore?" he said.

Bobby ignored him and looked around the kitchen. "Where did they get you?"

"The doorway, I think," replied Darien, trying desperately to remember something.

Bobby stepped near the doorway and scanned the area with his expertly trained eyes. He noticed a small piece of blue striped fabric with a dot of blood on it. "You got any tweezers or tongs or something?" he asked.

Darien nodded and walked into his kitchen. He rooted in a door and pulled out a pair of tongs, handing them to Bobby. Bobby used the tongs to pick up the scrap of fabric. "I don't think even you own a shirt this ugly," said Bobby as he held the fabric up in the air. 

Darien took the tongs from Bobby and looked at the fabric. He pointed to the blood stain. "Well at least it looks like I put up a fight. I got that going for me, right."

A sudden bump behind the door caused them both to step back. Bobby pulled out his gun and motioned Darien to stay behind him.

The door swung open and a short, stocky man dressed in a suit entered the apartment.

"Freeze!" yelled Bobby as he aimed his gun at the intruder. The man reacted by kicking the gun out of Bobby's hand. "Oh, you want to play rough, huh?" said Bobby as he brought his leg up and kicked the perp in the chest. The guy fell back into the hallway and took off running.

"Nobody runs from Bobby Hobbes!" said Bobby as he picked up his gun and ran after the intruder. 

Darien followed close behind. "I'll cut him off in the alley," said Darien as he ran down another hallway.

Bobby nodded and continued to run after the man. They got down a flight of stairs and wound up in the lobby of the apartment building. The perp made a mad dash for the side door leading out to the alley. Bobby was hot on his heels.

Darien cut through the building from the fire escape and ended up in the middle of the alleyway. He saw the intruder running in his direction and decided to go invisible to surprise him. He sped up his heartbeat and felt the quicksilver spread over his skin. What he also felt was intense pain and nausea. He fell to the ground as a dizzy spell slammed through his body. The perp ran by just as Darien shed the quicksilver.

Darien lay on the ground, in pain and unable to move. Bobby reached him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong, Fawkes?"

Darien shook his head in misery. "Don't let him get away, Bobby," muttered Darien.

Bobby nodded. "I'll be right back, partner," said Bobby as he took off running again. He reached the end of the alleyway and caught a glimpse of the intruder screeching off in an old car. He could faintly make out the driver, but didn't recognize the face. Bobby shot off his gun at the car, but it was too late, the car was too far away for it to do any good. With a muttered curse, he committed the license plate number to memory and then dashed back down the alley towards his fallen partner.

He reached Darien and noticed that his partner was dry heaving uncontrollably. He kneeled down next to his partner and began rubbing his back for comfort. "It's okay, Fawkes, it's okay," he murmured softly.

Darien felt like his entire stomach was about to explode. No matter how many times his body lurched to throw up, nothing would come up. Finally after a few minutes, the convulsive need to vomit stopped and he lay down on the pavement in exhaustion.

"Talk to me, Fawkes, wants going on?" asked Bobby with worry. He rolled Darien over and saw sweat and tears pouring down his partner's face. He set his hand against Darien's forehead and frowned when he felt heat radiating off of it. "Okay, easy buddy, I'm going to get you some help," said Bobby.

Darien nodded in fear and tried to pick himself off the ground, but found he was too weak. Bobby reached under his arms and pulled him off the ground. "I got you, Fawkes, I got you," said Bobby as he hoisted Darien's arm over his shoulder and started to drag him back out of the alleyway towards the van. 

******

An hour later, Darien was once again lying in the counteragent chair, feeling only slightly better. Bobby was pacing around the room in a panic and Claire was analyzing yet another blood sample from Darien.

The Official entered the Keep with a glum expression on his face. "Did you find anything?" he asked as he stepped next to Claire.

Claire sighed and looked up. "Unfortunately, yes," she said grimly.

Darien sat up in the counteragent chair with dread. "What is it?" he asked.

Claire put her hands on her hips. "Darien's blood is showing signs of some kind of toxin that I've never seen before. It's bonding to the quicksilver, which means the more quicksilver that builds up in his system, the more toxin that will be released."

"Is there some kind of antidote?" asked the Official.

"There's got to be. I'm trying to identify the individual components of the toxin right now. Once that's done, I can try to come up with some kind of remedy," she said.

"Is it going to kill me?" Darien asked softly.

Claire looked over at Darien with a sympathetic look on her face. "If the toxins continue to build in your system, then by the time you reach the levels necessary to go into quicksilver madness, you'll die," she said softly.

All the blood drained from Darien's face and he slumped back into the counteragent chair.

Bobby quickly walked over to the chair. "Nobody's dying, partner. We're going to find whoever did this and make them give up the antidote," said Bobby matter of factly.

Darien only nodded sadly.

Bobby hit him on the shoulder. "Come on, D, this isn't you. Darien Fawkes is one of the most stubborn, irritating guys that I know. I'm not letting you give up that easily, my friend."

"Bobby's right, Darien. This is some kind of man made toxin, which means there's got to be some kind of antitoxin. I won't stop until I find it, I promise," she said as she stepped next to Bobby.

"Thanks guys," said Darien softly.

"Why didn't this toxin show up in his blood tests from before?" asked the Official.

Claire shook her head. "I'm not sure, sir. It might be some sort of time release formula or something like that. I'm still studying the blood. I should know more in a few hours."

Bobby nodded and looked over at the Official. "Did you get any info on that plate I gave you?"

"The car is registered to a Jerry Blair. It was reported stolen three days ago," replied the Official. 

"What about the fabric, did you get anything off of that?" asked Bobby.

The Official cleared his throat. "The forensics boys found traces of a chemical used in the production of tennis balls, plastic bottles and inner tubes."

"We got any local manufacturers that would use that kind of thing?" asked Bobby.

"Eberts is looking into that as we speak. We should know within a few minutes," said the Official. "I want Darien locked down here. He doesn't leave the building for anything, you hear me."

"No," said Darien.

"Excuse me?" said the Official.

"I said no, sir," said Darien firmly. "I'm not going to sit around here staring at my tattoo waiting to die. Please sir, if I'm going to die, let it be on my own terms," he pleaded.

"You're not going to die, Darien," said Claire.

"Well if I do, I would rather it be outside than in this hellhole," said Darien. "No offense," he added as he looked over at Claire. 

"I can't clear that Fawkes," said the Official.

"What's the matter? Afraid I'm going to run off and die before you can harvest the gland," said Darien sarcastically.

"Fawkes," said Bobby sharply.

The Official shook his head. "That's not true, Darien. I only want to keep you safe until Claire can find a remedy for this thing," he said.

Darien stared intensely at the Official. "Look, you owe me, sir. I've served this Agency the best way I know how. I know I'm not the greatest agent you've ever had, but I've tried my best to do the right thing most of the time," said Darien softly. "Let me do this."

The Official stared at Darien long and hard, not seeing any possible way that Darien would obey his order. "All right," he finally said. "But Hobbes is to accompany you at all times."

"With pleasure chief," said Bobby.

They all turned eagerly when Eberts entered the Keep.

"What did you find?" Bobby asked anxiously.

"There are three companies that use the chemical found on the fabric you gave us. Two are warehouses right here downtown and the other is located out near Miramar," said Eberts as he handed a piece of paper containing the addresses to Bobby.

"If this information gets us our cure, than I'm buying you a steak dinner, Ebes," said Bobby.

Eberts smiled shyly.

Darien stood up from the chair and walked towards Bobby. 

"How you doing? You feeling any better?" asked Bobby with concern as he eyed his partner.

"I'm okay," said Darien. He snatched the paper out of Bobby's hand and scanned the addresses.

"Anything there ringing a bell, Darien?" asked Claire.

"Not yet, but I think if I see them up close, it might jog my memory," said Darien as he looked at Bobby. "Come on, man, let's hit it."

"Right behind you, big guy," said Bobby.

"Darien, wait!" said Claire urgently. "You are under no circumstances to quicksilver. The more quicksilver that builds up, the less time we have."

"You mean the less time I have," said Darien pointedly.

Claire looked down with a hurt expression on her face.

Darien shook his head. "I'm sorry, Keep. My brave face is running on empty here."

"I know, I'm sorry too. I will find a way to stop this, Darien," she said.

"I'm counting on it, Keep," said Darien with a small smile. He looked over at Bobby. "Well it looks like we're doing this job the old fashioned way, buddy. No invisible sneak and peak for us."

"That's okay. Bobby Hobbes will show you the subtle art of entering an establishment undetected," said Bobby.

"Can't wait," said Darien under his breath as he walked out the door. Bobby followed behind.

The Official looked over Claire. "How much time does he have?" he asked.

"Five days if he doesn't use any quicksilver, maybe less," replied Claire.

"Help him. Anything you need, and I'll get it for you. Just don't let him die," said the Official sharply.

"I won't, sir," said Claire softly.

The Official glanced at Claire with a look of heavy emotion in his eyes. Just as quickly he shook the expression off his face and looked over at Eberts. "Eberts, we have work to do."

"Yes, sir," said Eberts.

The Official walked out of the Keep, followed by Eberts, leaving Claire behind to find the right combination of chemicals that would save Darien's life.

TBC


	4. Part 3

Out of Time Part 3

By Carol M.

See first part for disclaimers and such

Small spoiler for Catevari in this one.

Note: You know, just when you think you've run out of plot bunnies, another one comes and hands you a carrot. You're going to be hearing a lot more from me. I guess all of us fan fic writers are sort of I-man cheerleaders, tiding all of us over until we see the last eps on scifi and the new eps on another network (which I firmly believe will happen!) So as my high school cheerleading friends would say, Go I-man Go! On with the story…

Darien sat in the passenger's seat of Golda with his head pressed against the window in sick misery, his mind occupied with anything but the passing scenery before his eyes. He hadn't said a word since he and Hobbes had left the Agency to go check out the manufacturing companies.

Bobby looked over at Darien with concern. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked out of the blue.

"You're getting cheap in your old age there, Hobbesy. It's gonna cost you a least ten dollars," said Darien, not bothering to move his head.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Quit trying to deflect from what's going on," he said with enough anger to cause Darien to turn his head and look at Bobby. "Tell me what you're thinking," said Bobby a few seconds later in a much gentler tone.

Darien leaned back against the window, only this time he was facing Bobby. "You ever think about dying, Hobbes?" he asked.

Bobby nodded. "Is this line of work, death is a constant companion, my friend. It comes with the territory."

Darien nodded. "Are you afraid to die?" he asked softly.

Bobby shrugged. "I guess. Don't get me wrong, I would gladly go down in a blazing glory if it would save my country or a friend. But the basic idea of dying is pretty scary stuff."

"Yeah, no kidding," said Darien as he shifted slightly. "You know, when that bank robber had that gun to my face, I thought it was all over. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move, I couldn't think. It was like he had stolen the life out of my last moments."

"Having a gun stuck in your face is very traumatic experience Fawkes. Still gives me the willies from time to time, even now," said Bobby with sympathy.

Darien nodded in understanding. "I guess I've realized something since that whole thing happened. I want to live my life, whether it be with the gland or not. I know I complain constantly about how much my life sucks, but it's my life, you know. I think I would rather live it with the gland and the QSM and all that crap then not live it all."

"Fawkes, listen to me, man. You're not going to die. Not now. I won't let that happen, okay. You mean too much to Claire, the Official and I," said Bobby.

"Yeah, all I am to the Official is a human receptacle," said Darien harshly.

Bobby shook his head. "That's not true and you know it, okay. That man looks at you like a son. He cares about you, Fawkes. No matter how much you want to deny it, you know it's true."

"Yeah, okay," said Darien, shaking his head. "Look, you mind if we change the subject to happier topics, like oh, I don't know, what are we going to do if we find something?"

"We're going to do like we always do and take the bastards down, my friend," said Bobby with a smile.

Darien chuckled. "That's sounding pretty good to me right about now," he said.

"I thought you might say that," said Bobby as he pulled the van into the parking lot for Morty's Manufacturing Inc. "Anything coming back to you?"

Darien shook his head as he took in the large building. "Not a thing."

"Well, let's go check it out anyway," said Bobby as he stepped out of the van. Darien got out of the van and followed his partner.

********

An hour later

"This is just a wild goose chase, Hobbes," said Darien in frustration. They had checked out the first two addresses on the list and had come up with nothing.

"It's not a wild goose chase, it's just a process of elimination. Have a little faith, partner," said Bobby as he drove onto a deserted road near the outskirts of Miramar.

"Sorry, but all my faith dried up a long time ago," said Darien. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, feeling nauseous and achy in his stomach. An intense headache was forming behind his eyes and all the remembering he had been trying to do was not helping any. He was about to fall into a light sleep when the van rolled over a series of huge potholes.

Darien's eyes were instantly open. "Hobbes, Hobbes," he said quickly.

"What? Spit it out," said Bobby anxiously as the van rolled over another pothole.

"Bumps, I remember lots of bumps in the road. I don't think I was completely conscious, but I remember getting bounced around in whatever kind of vehicle they put me in," said Darien.

"Well it looks like we're on the right track, then, pal," said Bobby as he pulled the van in the direction of a large building with a sign reading Deppo Manufacturing Inc.

He abruptly stopped the van and shut it off.

"What?" asked Darien in confusion.

Bobby ignored him and pulled out a pair of binoculars from the back of the van. He put his eyes up to the binoculars and looked towards the building.

"Hobbes, what's going on?" asked Darien impatiently.

Bobby handed the binoculars to Darien. "See for yourself, buddy," said Bobby.

Darien put his eyes to the binoculars and saw armed guards standing in front of the building, checking cars as they went through a security gate. "Um Hobbes, what would a manufacturing company be doing with armed guards?"

"Exactly," said Bobby. "I think we're dealing with a little more than tennis balls or plastic bottles here, my friend."

"Let's take a closer look, shall we," said Darien as he opened the door and stepped out of the van. Bobby did the same and the pair started to walk towards the security gate. "Okay, so I'm thinking I should quicksilver and get a look inside."

Bobby shook his head. "Fawkes, you heard the Keep. The more quicksilver you use the less time she has to find a cure for your little illness."

"You can say I told you so later," said Darien as he sped up his heartbeat and let the quicksilver flow over his skin. He ignored the pain and nausea that accompanied the cold sensation. "I'll be back in five," said Darien.

"Fawkes, this is stupid. You're going to get yourself killed," said Bobby, but Darien was already in a fast jog towards the security gate, determined to find out who had taken him and why, even if it ended up killing him.

He effortlessly got through the gate and quickly sprinted towards the main building. He entered a side door and made his way down one of the halls. What he saw was anything but a manufacturing company. Every corridor was filled with labs. The other rooms contained vast amounts of guns and other artillery.

He was about to enter one of the larger labs, when the overwhelming need to vomit filled his senses. He quickly turned around and ran towards the exit.

Bobby was waiting impatiently outside, checking his watch every two seconds. Darien had been in the building for approximately four minutes and Bobby hoped that his partner would wise up and get the hell out of there. He nearly fell to the ground when an invisible body slumped against him.

"Fawkes," he yelled in a panic.

Darien reappeared a moment later and fell to the ground, dry heaving his guts out. His face was sweaty and pale, and his eyes shined with fever. "I think I used a little too much," rasped Darien as the dry heaving spell passed. He hugged his arms to his sides where it felt like his stomach had indeed exploded inside his body.

"Damn it, Fawkes, why did you do that?" asked Bobby as he ran a hand over Darien's shoulder.

Darien took a deep breath and looked at Bobby. "Because who ever did this wants me dead. They wouldn't have brought me back to the Keep if there was any possibility that Claire would find a cure. It's up to me to find an antidote," he whispered weakly.

"Wrong, partner, it's up to us. Bobby Hobbes doesn't bail on his partner, especially when he's practically tossing his cookies on my shoes," said Bobby.

"That's good to know," slurred Darien as his eyes started to roll back in his head.

"Come on, Fawkes, I'm taking you back to the Keep," said Bobby as he lifted his partner off the ground and slung him over his back in a fireman's carry. By the time Bobby got back to the van with his partner, Darien was completely unconscious

*****

When Darien awoke several hours, it was to the loud voices of Claire and Bobby. "Wuz goin' on?" he mumbled, still half asleep.

Claire and Bobby were instantly at his side. 

"How are you feeling, Fawkesy?" asked Bobby.

"Like crap, but other than that I'm fine," replied Darien.

Claire cleared her throat loudly in anger. Darien looked over at her and raised her eyebrows. "What did I do?" asked Darien.

"You cut your time by two days, that's what you did!" said Claire angrily. "How do you expect me to come up with an antidote when you take away the time for me to do it!"

"You're not going to find an antidote and you know it, Claire. Why would somebody shoot me up with death juice and then bring me back here so you can fix it. It's not going to happen, Claire," murmured Darien.

Claire sighed. "Darien I…"

"No, listen, Deppo Manufacturing, that's where I was taken. While I was snooping around in there, I saw several small labs and a few rooms filled to the brim with weapons. I'm thinking we're dealing with someone familiar here," urged Darien.

"Like I don't know, maybe Chrysalis?" said Bobby.

"See, that's why they pay you the big bucks, my friend," said Darien with a smile.

"Yeah, tell that to the boss," said Bobby. "Eberts checked out this so-called Deppo Manufacturing. Guess who the owner is?"

"Jared Stark," answered Darien.

"Give the man a prize," said Bobby. "We tried to contact him, but he's no where to be found."

"How convenient," said Darien.

"Right. So here's what I'm going to do. Me and Golda are going to stake out the place and see if we can't come up with a solution to your current situation," said Bobby.

"Sounds like a plan to me, let's go," said Darien as he struggled to get out of the chair.

"Nope, not this time Fawkes," said Bobby as he held Darien to the chair. "You're going to stay here tonight and rest. Bright and early tomorrow, you can come out and play with the big boys, but not a second sooner."

"Hobbes…"

"No arguments," said Bobby as he started for the door. "I'll see you kids in the morning," said Bobby as he walked out the door.

Claire regarded Darien with a small smile and rubbed his arm. "You aren't looking too good," she said as she noted his pale face and pain-filled eyes.

"Yeah well, I'm not really feeling too good," said Darien softly.

"I know," she said as she ran a hand through his hair. "I'm going to finish up a few tests and then we'll move you to lab three, okay," she said softly.

"Kay," he whispered. A stared at her intensely for several seconds. "Hey Claire, you know I have complete confidence in you and trust you with my life, right?" he asked.

Claire smiled. "I know."

"I just don't think you're meant to find a cure for this thing. It just seems too easy," said Darien.

"Well maybe I'll surprise them. I've almost figured out all the compounds of the toxin. Once that's done, I can start sequencing chemicals for an antitoxin," she said as she stepped over to her microscope.

"Claire," said Darien.

Claire looked over at him. "Yeah, Darien."

"Thanks for trying," he said.

"Well call me, crazy, but I kind of like having you around," said Claire with a smile.

"I think you already used that line on me once before, Keep," said Darien with his own smile.

"Well, it's the best line I got," replied Claire as she looked back at her microscope.

Several minutes later, Darien was almost asleep when a large crash and a scream startled him awake. He looked over at Claire in a panic. "What's wrong?" he asked her.

Claire was breathing in short, panicky gasps and tears were flowing down her cheeks.

With a superhuman effort, Darien picked his body off the counteragent chair and walked to Claire. "What's wrong, Claire, what happened?" he asked her.

She looked at him with haunted eyes. "I am so sorry, Darien," she said softly.

Darien looked at her in shock. "Why?"

"I caused all this, I did this to you. You're going to die because of me!" she cried out.

TBC


	5. Part 4 (final)

Out of Time Part 4 (final)

By Carol M.

See prologue for disclaimer

Spoilers: F2B

Note: Again, I have no knowledge of medicine so if this sounds farfetched, I apologize. Also be on the lookout for a little bad ass Claire in this part. Other than that, enjoy the rest of the story!

Darien regarded Claire with shock for a moment at the statement she had just made and then cleared his head. "Keep, what are you talking about? How did you have anything to do with this?" he asked in a shaky voice.

Claire shook her head and wiped at tears that were coming out of her eyes. "I identified all of the compounds in the toxin. I found that one of the chemicals in the toxin is also present in the counteragent. When I gave you your shot, I added the last chemical needed for the toxin to work. It activated as soon as I gave you the counteragent," she sobbed. "That's why the toxin didn't show up in the original blood test I gave you. It was lying dormant until the last chemical was introduced into your body."

Claire stepped forward and grabbed onto Darien, pulling him into a hard embrace. "I'm so sorry, Darien. This is all my fault," she sobbed into his chest.

Darien rested his head against the top of Claire's head and hugged her back. "Shhhhh, Claire, this isn't your fault. If you hadn't have given me the counteragent, I would've gone, nuts. You know I'd rather die then go off the deep end and hurt someone. All you've been doing is trying to find a way to save me. I won't let you blame yourself for this, Keep," said Darien as he lifted her head up so she was looking him the eyes. "This is just want they want. They want to hurt you and they want to hurt me. You're just letting them win."

Claire shook her head in anger. "Why would they do this?"

"I don't know. I didn't even know Chrysalis had access to…" Darien stopped in mid sentence as revelation entered his mind. "Arnaud. Arnaud and Chrysalis are working together."

"What?" asked Claire in confusion.

"Don't you see Claire. Chrysalis kidnapped me and formulated this toxin around the counteragent. They could've only gotten the counteragent from one person: Arnaud," said Darien. "God, I should have seen it before, this whole thing reeks of that Swiss Miss Mother. I have to get to Hobbes and get in that building," said Darien as he started for the door.

"No, you're not going alone. I'm going with you," said Claire as she grabbed her purse and followed Darien towards the door.

"Keep, it could be dangerous," said Darien as he put his body in front her to stop her.

"Darien, I'm not going to let you die. I'll tear that place apart and find the antidote," she said firmly. "Besides, how do you expect to drive in your condition?" she continued, her jaw firmly set.

Darien sighed. "Fine, let's go."

******

"No Fawkes, this is way too dangerous," said Bobby after hearing Darien and Claire's story.

"Come on, we get in there, get the stuff and get out," said Darien in a determined tone as he looked over at the Deppo building.

"What makes you think there's an antidote in there anyway?" asked Bobby as looked at Darien and Claire.

"Because I know the way Arnaud's mind works. He wants me to know he did this. He wants me in there," said Darien. "Now are you going to help me or are you going to wait outside?"

"Do you even have to ask, buddy?" said Bobby as he stuck his arm out. Seconds later, he felt the cold chill of quicksilver coating his body. Several seconds later, Claire and Darien were both invisible as well.

"How long?" Darien asked Claire as the trio ran towards the building. 

"Fifteen minutes at the most," said Claire.

"Great," groaned Darien as pain and nausea assaulted his body. He was dangerously close to passing out, but the sheer will to live was forcing him to continue.

The trio made it through the security gate and entered the building through the side door Darien had used earlier. As soon as they got in the corridor with the labs, they systematically started to search each one for the antidote.

After five minutes, they hadn't found anything.

"Guys, this is taking too long. We have to split up," said Darien weakly. He stammered out of the lab they were searching and made his way down the hallway. He saw a room at the very end of the hall with a light coming from under the door. He cautiously made his way down the hallway and quietly opened the door. His heart stopped for a moment when he saw Arnaud sitting at a desk with his back turned to him.

"Hello Fawkes," said Arnaud as he turned around in his chair.

Darien lurched at Arnaud and swiped at his face with his hand. He expected to come back with latex foam, but instead came back with flesh and blood.

"Now was that really necessary?" said Arnaud coolly.

"You unbelievable bastard," said Darien as a sharp pain worked its way through his head and down into his chest. He fell to the floor and let the quicksilver fall off of him.

"I want to thank you, Fawkes. After observing and testing you for the week, you managed to give me enough information to reverse my permanent invisibility problem and help my new friends make their own glands. You were also the perfect guinea pig to test my little drug on," he said with a smile.

Darien blinked back tears of pain as he felt his body starting to shut down. His breath was coming hard and fast, and he felt hot and miserable. "Why?" he rasped as his body started to convulse.

Arnaud leaned over him and looked him the eye. "Well it suddenly occurred to me, if you're selling a gland to a crazy terrorist, the risk of going crazy from lack of counteragent really doesn't apply. The madness just gives these zealots more courage to pull of their missions. So, unfortunately they don't come back for the counteragent and that leaves me with empty pockets. But you give them something that will kill them, well, they'll come back for the antidote and learn a valuable lesson. You never leave me with empty pockets."

Darien felt another stab of pain slice into his head and moaned loudly. He pulled his wrist up and saw his tattoo read eight segments red, one segment green.

"Looks like you've run out of time, Darien. It's a shame really, I'm going to miss having you as an enemy," said Arnaud.

"Give me the antidote, man," whimpered Darien in agony.

Arnaud leaned down so close to Darien that he could feel the Swiss man's breath on his face. "Find it yourself, Fawkes," whispered Arnaud.

"We already did, De Phon," said the voice of Bobby Hobbes. Arnaud looked in the doorway and saw Claire dashing in the room with a syringe in her hand and Bobby with his gun aimed at Arnaud.

"You lose this round, pal," said Bobby.

A sudden harsh cry erupted from Darien as the last segment of his tattoo turned red.

Arnaud smiled. "I don't think so."

Claire reached Darien's side and injected the antidote into his system, praying it wasn't too late. She checked Darien's pulse and discovered to her horror that Darien wasn't breathing. "He's not breathing, Bobby!" yelled Claire in a panic. 

Arnaud took advantage of the distraction and ran out of the room. Bobby wavered for a second, debating whether to go after him or not. When he saw Claire breathing into Darien's mouth, he decided to stay with his partner.

He quickly ran to the pair and set down his gun. "What do you need me to do?" he asked quickly.

"Start giving him chest compressions," she said.

Bobby put his hands in the necessary formation and pressed them against Darien's chest. "One, two, three, four, five," he counted out loud.

Claire breathed into Darien's mouth. Still no breath.

"Come on, Darien, breathe," said Bobby. "One, two, three, four, five."

Claire breathed into his mouth again, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Bobby pressed harder against Darien's chest, trying to push the breath out of him. "One, two, three, four, five."

Claire breathed into Darien's mouth once again. "Please don't do this, Darien," she sobbed.

Bobby continued to do compressions on his partner's chest, trying to ignore the sickly white pallor of Darien's skin. "Breathe, damn you, breathe!" he shouted.

Claire took all her breath and blew it into Darien's mouth, ignoring the dizzy feeling from her own lack of oxygen. "Come on, Darien," she whispered softly.

Darien's body suddenly lurched in a choking cough. He fell back limply to the floor with harsh breaths escaping from his mouth.

"Oh god, he's alive, he's alive," said Bobby as he picked up his limp partner and pulled him into a hug. "Will he be okay?" he asked Claire.

Claire nodded. "He should be," she said with relief as she ruffled the hair on the back of Darien's head.

They both turned their heads to the doorway in a panic when they heard footsteps rapidly approaching.

"Can you still shoot, Keep?" asked Bobby as he picked his partner up and swung him over his shoulder.

Claire picked up Bobby's gun and pulled out a machine gun she had taken from one of the artillery rooms. "Try me," she said with a wicked gleam in her eye.

The pair approached the door and Claire swung out through the door, taking out two guards that were making their way towards the lab. "It's clear," she yelled to Bobby. 

She ran out of the lab with Bobby close behind. They made it down the corridor and turned a corner, seeing the exit. "Go, go," yelled Bobby.

A guard approached out of nowhere and Claire didn't hesitate to shoot him. "Well done, darling," said Bobby as the pair burst through the exit door.

They started a fast sprint towards the security gate, the weight from Darien's body not affecting Bobby's running ability. Claire shot off the machine gun at various guards that approached, taking several out and causing others to back down.

They finally made it to the van free and clear. Bobby placed Darien in the back and Claire joined him. Then Bobby got into the front seat and sped off, leaving a cloud of dust in his tracks.

*******

"Nope, it's alright. The toxin is slowly disappearing from his body. In a few days, he should be fine," Darien heard Claire say from behind a black fog.

"I was able to give him the counteragent as soon as we got back to the Keep. Seems the antitoxin shuts off the ability of the counteragent to produce the toxin," she continued.

"Good. I want him to stay here until he's completely recovered. I don't care what argument he has for me this time!" he heard the Official say.

"Oh come on, chief, give the poor guy a break, let him go home. He hasn't been able to sleep in his own bed in a week!" the voice of Bobby Hobbes said.

"Hobbes, one more word out of you and I'm going to make you pay me for those days off you had," said the Official.

"Oh yeah, what are you going to do, calculate how many hours I missed?" said Bobby.

He heard Eberts clearing his throat. "Actually Robert, according to my calculations you missed 60 hours of work last week, which would constitute a charge of…"

"Shut up, Eberts," rasped Darien as he slowly opened his eyes.

"Darien!" shouted Claire as she walked to his side. "How are you feeling?" she asked as she checked his pulse.

"Like I was hit by a Hummer," he whispered.

He saw the face of Bobby Hobbes appear in front of his own. "Good to have you back, pal. I thought we were going to lose you for a few minutes there."

Darien shook his head. "Naw, I'm like a cockroach. I'll go on living forever."

"That's the spirit, son," said the Official. He harshly cleared his throat. "Darien, you are to stay here until you are completely recovered."

"Um, actually, no sir he isn't. Darien is going home to his apartment as soon as he wants to. Isn't that right, Darien," said Claire with a small smile.

Darien nodded hopefully.

"Yeah, chief. Me and Golda are standing by to transport him as soon as he's ready," said Bobby.

The Official grumbled and stared into the unsympathetic faces of Claire and Bobby. "Fine," he said sharply. "Fawkes, good to have you back, kid," he said as he slapped Darien on the shoulder.

"Thanks, sir," whispered Darien.

"Eberts," said the Official as he walked towards the door.

"Coming sir," said Eberts. "I'm glad you're okay, Darien," he said before following the Official out the door.

"Thanks Ebes," said Darien. He turned his head and looked at Claire and Bobby eagerly. "Did you get the bad guys?"

Bobby shook his head. "Sorry, kid. The Swiss bastard got away. When we went back with a team to take down Deppo Manufacturing, it was cleaned out."

"Damn it! We're never going to get them, are we?" said Darien angrily.

"Patience my dear Fawkesy," said Bobby. "We'll get em all, you have my word on that," said Bobby as he gave Darien a friendly pat on the arm.

"I hope so," whispered Darien as he looked over at Claire. "Hey Hobbesy, can I have a few moments with Claire, here?"

A look of jealousy briefly flashed over Bobby's face and then it disappeared when he saw the guilty expression that had washed over Claire's features. "Sure thing, partner. Come and find me when you want to go home," he said as he walked of the Keep.

Darien looked over at Claire and smiled. "So you saved me," he said.

Claire shook her head. "I wouldn't have had to save you if I had just run more tests on you and discovered the toxin."

"We're not playing that game, Claire, I already told you that," said Darien. "Look, I'm alive, I'm almost back to normal, and it's all because of you. You did good, Keep."

Claire's eyes filled with tears. "No."

"No, no, no, don't you dare start crying on me, okay," pleaded Darien with puppy dog eyes. He held out both of his arms in the air to embrace her. "Come here," he said.

Claire leaned over and allowed Darien to pull her against his body. She wrapped her arms tightly around him as well and the two friends shared a tender embrace.

Claire lifted her head up and looked Darien in the eyes. "I'm glad you're okay," she said as she leaned up and placed a quick kiss to his forehead.

"Whoa, did you just kiss me?" asked Darien in amusement.

Claire smiled. "Let's just say that I want to keep you around for a long, long time," said Claire.

"Sounds good to me," said Darien with a smile. "You know what I need?"

Claire looked at him curiously. "What?"

"A vacation," replied Darien.

Claire rolled her eyes and laughed. "I wouldn't hold my breath, Darien."

Darien laughed and then his eyes started to droop. "Tell Hobbesy we can go when I'm done napping," he mumbled.

"I will," she said softly. She stared at Darien for a long time, watching him relax into a peaceful sleep, thankful that her Kept was still living and breathing.

That's All Folks


End file.
